


A Temporary Fix

by cascades (heartroots)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Kink for Suits!, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartroots/pseuds/cascades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey had no trouble keeping his hands to himself until he saw Mike in <i>his</i> suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Temporary Fix

**Author's Note:**

> This show is almost infuriatingly slashy because I know yet again we are just being teased, and they will never actually get together. Fuck you, TV. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist writing some quick smut for it. I might write something more substantial later. (Also, I wrote the Boys Scouts line before I finished rewatching the episode and realized it was mentioned later on. MY SUBCONSCIOUS KNOWS WHAT'S UP.)

The best thing about Mike is that for all his talent, he’s still rough around the edges. It’s a bit of a chore to look after him, but Harvey likes having someone around who doesn’t fit into the Harvard mold. He finds it... charming. The way Mike comes into work with wrinkles in his too cheap suits, obviously pressed at the last minute, if at all, hair half-flattened from that stupid bicycle helmet – he rides a _bike_ to work, for Christ’s sake – and stubble he can’t, or doesn’t want to, keep under control. He’s a work-in-progress. Harvey honestly doesn’t mind being the one who has to polish him up, because he’s cleaning up good. Too good. 

He’s still fresh out of his teens, and that’s the real issue. That’s why Harvey should feel bad about the way he looks at him, and thinks about him. 

Harvey is a grown man, has been for years now, and he can control his urges. If Mike were in his situation he’d probably be jerking off silently in bathroom stalls during his short breaks between piles of paperwork, mouthing Harvey’s name as he came into his palm – and that’s the wrong side of the line Harvey’s imagination is toeing; a train of thought he definitely should not follow if he wants to keep his self-righteous belief that he’s too in control of himself to get hard under his desk in tact. But Mike is so young and so eager to please (though not without minor insubordination in the form of biting wit) that Harvey is beginning to realize he’s not as in control of himself as he thought. Who knew that scrawny kid in an ill-fitting suit who crashed his interview process with a briefcase full of weed and bright, calculating eyes would later have the singular pleasure of denting his ego? 

Jessica. Jessica probably knew. That must be why she hasn’t eaten Mike alive yet. 

Harvey is slowly losing control. He’s good at concealing it, but once he’s lost it, there’ll be nothing to hide behind. 

It’s the suit that does it. His suit. Mike riding up on his bike, wearing Harvey’s suit. It’s too big on him, loose around the shoulders and sagging on his hips; it doesn’t look good, but it does look hot. Harvey’s mouth is on auto-pilot for the entire ensuing conversation. He manages to keep it PG-13 when what he really wants to say would only be allowed to play in an arthouse cinema, but something about Mike being naked slips out despite his best efforts. He checks out Mike’s ass, still spectacular in too-loose pants, on the way to the meeting with Church, but his mind is made clear as soon as the shakedown starts. Routine like this is good. Routine keeps him from drifting off into fantasies and consequently not saying the right thing at the right time to counter the offense. 

Then the douchebag has to go and mention Mike’s suit, and Harvey suddenly feels fiercely protective of Mike. The poor fit of Harvey’s suit on his smaller frame is... oddly endearing. And hot. They both have places they need to be, but Harvey can’t — he’s snapped. Officially. Mike’s wearing his suit and he’s staring at him with those intelligent eyes, waiting for him to dismiss him, and he can’t do it. 

It’s his tie he’s ruining when he wraps it around his fist and drags Mike into the limousine his driver just vacated, his jacket he’s wrinkling and his shirt he’s beginning to untuck as he corners Mike up against the other car door.

“H-Harvey?” Mike asks, voice admirably steady considering the situation. 

Harvey leans in close and slips his hand up under Mike’s — no, Harvey’s, shirt and rests it on his stomach, to reassure him. “Say yes and I’ll give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had. Say no and this never happened. You have my word. Boy Scouts’ honor.”

Mike takes a deep breath that Harvey can feel rising and falling beneath his hand; Harvey watches him carefully for signs of reluctance. “Depends: were you really a Boy Scout?”

“Yes. Eagle Scout, actually.”

Mike smirks. “Impressive.”

Harvey doesn’t advance further, but he does let his thumb brush against the line of hair disappearing below Harvey’s — no, that actually is Mike’s belt. It doesn’t match at all. Good thing the jacket’s too long on him. “Enough joking. You can say no, you know. I may be your boss and I am in charge of your tenuous fate at Pearson Hardman, but that doesn’t mean I own you, or that I can take advantage of you. Even Donna wouldn’t think so lowly of me.” Harvey pauses. “Jessica might.”

Mike considers him with slightly narrowed eyes. “Can I ask where this is coming from?” 

Harvey toys with the lowest button on the shirt Mike’s wearing; he decides to be upfront. “The suit pushed me over the edge. My suit. You look... hot in it.” 

“So you’ve wanted to do this for a while then?” 

“Yes,” Harvey says firmly. He ignores the urge to mock-compliment Mike’s _stellar_ line of questioning. Enough investigation, he just needs an answer. Mike has a better poker face than Harvey expected; he has no idea what’s going on in this kid’s head. 

“Then what are you waiting for?” Mike asks and he surges forward and kisses Harvey, knocks him back on his ass so he can crawl into his lap. 

And Harvey thought he could read people. As nice a surprise as this is, he wasn’t planning on kissing. Kissing is too much. Mike’s mouth moving against his, tongue trying to pry Harvey’s mouth open as he pushes their chests together and gets their hips acquainted, is too much. He decides not to say as much because Mike would probably have some smartass thing to say about it that would change Harvey’s mind. Instead Harvey simply pushes him away and into the door again, checks that it's locked, and opens the buckle on Mike’s belt; it’s the only part of him that doesn’t currently belong to Harvey. Except for, maybe – “Did you borrow my underwear too?” Harvey asks, amused. And more than a little turned on at the thought. He’ll see soon enough. 

“No, I’m – ”

“Not wearing any,” Harvey roughly finishes for him when he gets his hand inside the open fly. “I sure hope you were planning on dry cleaning this before you gave it back to me.” 

“Oh, so your pants are too good for my dick but your mouth isn’t?” 

His fucking smart mouth. Harvey’s going to teach him a lesson for that someday, when he has more time at his disposal. “Just shut up and come quick. My driver only stepped out to get some coffee.” With that warning in place, Harvey takes Mike’s half-hard cock out of his pants and doesn’t waste time getting it into his mouth. Mike sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes are wide when he looks down at Harvey, as if he didn’t really expect him to do it. Harvey cocks an eyebrow and takes Mike deeper. Mike is fully hard and flushed with arousal now, but Harvey needs this to go faster. He slips a hand back inside Mike’s (Harvey’s) trousers and cups his balls, working them experimentally in his warm palm until Mike’s breath catches and he pushes his hips forward, as far as Harvey lets him. 

“Harvey, fuck,” Mike says through gritted teeth as Harvey fists the base of his cock. “You know, I would’ve liked the visual of you down on your knees, but th-this is good too.” 

Harvey would have to object to getting on his knees in this suit, but Mike's right: this is good, even though it’s too cramped, and too risky; Harvey always did like the thrill of almost getting caught. Maybe if they were somewhere else; maybe if Mike was naked and sitting on the edge of Harvey’s mattress and Harvey was wearing something casual, something he didn’t mind wearing down the knees on, he’d give Mike just the visual he wanted. And maybe when Harvey put both hands on Mike’s bare thighs and swallowed him, Mike wouldn’t be afraid to throw his head back and cry out Harvey’s name. 

But Mike would never be in his bedroom, Harvey reminds himself. Harvey could never allow that. Harvey is not _allowed_ to allow that. 

Harvey breathes Mike’s heady scent in through flared nostrils and it clears his head better than sniping back and forth with a greasy lawyer ever could. They have an incalculable time constraint. Probably five minutes or less, but possibly longer depending on the line in the coffee shop and the wait at the counter. Harvey can’t afford to take any more chances. With Mike’s dilated eyes on him, Harvey pulls back and sucks just the head of Mike’s cock into his mouth. Lips tightly encircling it, he flicks and drags and presses his tongue against it until he can taste precome leaking from the slit. Mike moans softly. 

“I always thought if it ever came to blowjobs between us,” Mike says, like that’s a normal thing to say to your boss – like this is a normal thing for your boss to do, “I’d be the one sucking you off. Something about you shutting up my smart mouth, I imagined. Seemed much more likely than –” Mike gasps when Harvey slides him in deep again, his tongue working along the underside, “ _this_ ,” he finishes on a sigh. His hands come up to bury in Harvey’s hair, pull him all the way onto his cock and keep him there, but Harvey gives him a stern look and pushes his hands away; can’t have anything messing up his hair because he has to look perfectly decent after this. No one will even notice if Mike comes into the office looking more disheveled than usual. 

“Not that I’m at all dissatisfied,” Mike continues, and Harvey is pleased to hear a tremble in his voice, the same one he feels running through his thighs. Mike groans. “You’re really good at this.”

_Of course I am, I’m good at everything,_ is how Harvey would respond if his mouth wasn’t full. While he enjoys compliments as much as (or probably more than) the next man, Harvey has a schedule to keep and Mike can only delay him for so long before, “My junior associate needed some help with a case,” will sound like a poorly-crafted euphemism to his coworkers. Harvey can tell Jessica, o she of little faith, already suspects something, and he hadn’t even done anything until now. Mike needs to stop talking and come already to save Harvey the trouble. 

Harvey was enjoying letting Mike’s cock rest in his mouth as he tasted and teased along Mike’s length with highly-practiced drags of his tongue, but it's much too leisurely an approach. He lets go of the base of Mike’s cock and sucks him in all the way, until his nose is brushing coarse hair. Mike lets out a loud moan and cleverly puts his hand on the back of Harvey’s neck, since his hair is still off limits no matter how desperate Mike gets. 

“Harvey fuck, I-I’m getting there,” Mike assures him. He bites his lip to hold back some sound Harvey’s sure he wanted to hear and his eyes slide shut, which is a bit of an inconvenience because Harvey was hoping he’d be able to watch out for the return of his driver. (And because Harvey was hoping to see the blown look in his eyes when he came, but maybe that’s inadvisable when he wants it this bad.) His grip tightens on Harvey’s neck; Harvey doesn’t try to break free from it. Mike’s cock is throbbing on his tongue, the taste of him bitterly mouthwatering, and his hips keep twitching out of his control as he makes sounds in the back of his throat that don’t leave his lips – he’s so close it’ll only take one good jolt of pleasure to send him over the edge. 

Curious, Harvey reaches the hand still slick with his saliva that dripped down Mike’s shaft back into Mike’s pants (Harvey doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to wear them again with these memories attached). He brushes past Mike’s balls, earning a hitch in Mike’s breath, and keeps going lower, farther back; he smirks as best he can around Mike's cock and presses the tips of two fingers against his entrance. 

Mike comes over the back of Harvey’s tongue with a shout that sounds louder than it is in the cramped space, but hushed compared to Harvey’s blood pounding in his ears. Harvey efficiently sucks Mike’s softening cock clean and pulls away immediately after it drops from his mouth, hands and knees and lips safely out of Mike’s personal space. 

Mike blinks up at him. There’s a hint of a smile in the quirk of his mouth. “Harvey, that –” 

“If you try to give me a high five, you’re fired,” Harvey says when he sees Mike’s hand come up. “Same goes for a fist bump, or any other adolescent gesture of triumph that I am not familiar with. Because I’m an adult.” It’s only after he’s finished speaking that it occurs to him that Mike might have been reaching up to cradle his jaw, to coax him into a kiss. 

Harvey would have had to reject him anyway. 

Mike’s burgeoning smile drops soon after his hand. “Noted.” 

Harvey looks away from Mike’s shining eyes to straighten his tie, adjust the cuffs of his shirt. “Do not try to speak to me about this in the office. Now get your dick back in your pants and get upstairs.”


End file.
